Free Homeward Bound by Kat Attalla Page A

the fabric of his shirt, pulling it free of the waistband of his jeans. Her hand moved up along his waist, patiently kneading the tight muscles of his stomach and chest. Her touch scorched a line across him like a brand that was hers alone.
    "Kate?" he murmured between the kisses he pressed to her lips.
    "Mmm."
    He wasn't sure if she was answering or expressing approval for the new position of his hand.
    The last time he steamed up the back windows of his pickup, he was still in high school, promising away his future. Only Kate didn't cool him off by playing the tease and pushing him back to ask, "Do you love me?" He found himself being the first to cry uncle.
    The eyes that met his were wide and shining with anticipation. Quite a turnabout from the sorrow he witnessed earlier, he thought, feeling rather pleased with himself. "Have mercy on me, Kate."
    "Not until you move your hand."
    His throaty chuckle covered a cough. No matter what the difference in social backgrounds, on this level at least, they related perfectly. Curled up in his lap and as frisky as a kitten with catnip, Kate was his equal.
    He tenderly stroked the taut nipple again. "Is that the button that turns you on?" he asked her, feeling the involuntary shudder she tried to hide from him.
    "Apparently," she stammered out, bewildered by the deep reaction she had to his touch. She arched closer and grinned mischievously as she repeated every sensual gesture, with the same results. "Is that the button that turns you on, Jake?"
    "Every place you put your hand turns me on. And I'm heating up a little too fast."
    Kate glanced over his shoulder at the foggy window. She traced a small heart with her finger, and giggled. "I told you to open up a window."
    He didn't want to let her go, but as she began to wiggle in his arms, he knew that the intimate bond had been broken. "Later?"
    "It's unavoidable," she promised, tossing back his earlier words at him.

 

 
 
 
    Chapter Six

 
    Kate rose early Sunday morning to watch another glorious sunrise. She’d spent a restless night, tossing, turning, and denying that she felt any disappointment when Jake turned down her invitation to come in the evening before. He gave her some wonderful excuses. Trevor had gone out with some friends, and he couldn't leave Chloe alone in the house. At fifteen, the girl was old enough to be alone, but Kate hadn't earned the right to judge the way Jake raised his daughter.
    At exactly quarter after six, the next-door neighbors sprang into action. Laurel and Hardy were at it again. Chloe ran out the kitchen door with her hands covering her ears, but otherwise amused by the antics of the adults in her household.
    She leaned over the fence, with her feet dangling in the air. "You comin'?"
    Kate pulled the goose-down comforter tighter around her shoulders. "I don't think so." I'm pouting, she might as well have added.
    "Why not?" Jake's deep voice startled her.
    She’d been watching the kitchen door to see him leave the house so she could childishly give him her back and return to bed as if he meant nothing. Twenty minutes' worth of fantasy blown by a front-door exit on Jake's part.
    As she started to get up, her feet tangled in the quilt and she stumbled forward into the porch rail. His attempt to hide his laughter embarrassed her more than if he had erupted in her face. She casually folded her arms on the rail and gazed out over the field. "I meant to do that," she announced.
    "Sure you did, Kate." His clear blue eyes told her that he didn't have as much trouble sleeping as she did.
    An illogical resentment burned in Kate, and she had to suppress it when Chloe came over to join them.
    "How come you're not gonna feed Lollipop today?" Chloe asked.
    "Lollipop?" Jake repeated.
    "The new calf. Kate named it that because it likes to suck on things. You get it. Sucker, Lollipop," Chloe explained before Kate could get a word in.
    "Is that so?" With one of his knowing glances and the tiniest twist to